


Wishing you well

by MarriedToCoffee



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Cute Midoriya Izuku, Gen, General Education Department Midoriya Izuku, Healer Midoriya Izuku, Izumi’s costume based off of Nurse Hero Lady Nightingale art, Light Angst, Magic-User Midoriya Izuku, Magical Girls, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Probably more tags than this but idc, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, The Author Regrets Everything, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarriedToCoffee/pseuds/MarriedToCoffee
Summary: “What is the wish you would trade your soul for?” Kyuubey stared down at the one sided massacre in apathy. He waited impatiently for Izumi’s response.“I wish...”OrThat one time Izumi Midoriya signed a contract to become a magical girl in exchange for a single wish but forgot to read the terms and conditions.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Izumi Midoriya, what is your wish?”

 

“I wish...”

 

* * *

 

The blaring ring of the alarm resonated through the room, shoving her awake and onto the bedroom floor. Lazily, Izumi swatted in the general direction of the despicable lump of metal. What a heinous invention. Glaring groggily, the luminous numbers gradually registered into her brain and- shit.

 

Screeching an unholy sound of horror, she pulled on her uniform and flung on her bag. Periodically pausing to check her hair or brush her teeth, she prepared for a day of torture- uhh, school, yes that. She flew to the kitchen, almost stumbling down the staircase. She mentally confirmed that stairs were indeed a safety hazard and therefore shouldn’t have ever existed.

 

Hurriedly, she stuffed a slice of toast and jam into her cheeks like a chipmunk- except the chipmunk was actually a girl shrieking in distress as if she’d accidentally sent the house up in flames- and rightfully so: she had ten minutes until formroom. Tripping into her shoes, she flung open the front door and flew outside as if dragged by an unknown force, leaving Inko looking dazed and confused in the dining room.

 

One day she was going to give her mother a heart attack ~~nothing she couldn’t fix~~ and that wasn’t a very heroic thing to do. 

 

Sprinting down the street, she skid to Aldera Middle School and- oh god no. A kaleidoscope of swirling colours crept into her vision, distorting the fabric of reality. It was like an inevitable acid trip that just rudely interrupted her already frantic morning. Really, was now seriously the best time for this? Yes, apparently it was. Goddamnit. She knew she should’ve properly read the terms and conditions of the contract before agreeing to be a magical girl.

 

* * *

 

“Deku what the hell?!” Bakugou seethed, hands popping with small explosions.

 

“Hello Kacchan,” Izumi replied reluctantly. After the mess on the way to school, she could deal with skipping the whole routine situation they had going on where Bakugou would threaten to kill her, remind her she was worth nothing and that she couldn’t be a hero because she was quirkless, and then fire off a couple blasts to emphasise his point. His intimidation tactic never worked anymore though, because honestly speaking, Izumi knew Bakugou wasn’t the most dangerous thing out there. There were things much worse than angry pomeranians.

 

“The hell? Don’t screw with me! Where the fuck were you? You missed homeroom,” Bakugou yelled. As if Izumi cared; it wasn’t in any way her fault a labyrinth had suddenly appeared in front of her.

 

Izumi smirked. “Aww, you missed me?” She gazed slyly, crossing her arms. She slipped languidly past Bakugou who stood frozen, stepping calmly through the door. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she set it down on her table.

 

“As if I’d ever miss your quirkless ass!” She heard the shout from behind her, but by that time she was long gone. Well, as gone as she _could_ be when the two of them were stuck in the same class, so basically not at all. _Hooray_.

 

Izumi was just so done with hearing Bakugou’s stupid remarks and threats on a daily basis. It was sickening and generally unbeffiting of a future hero to behave in such a callous way. It was like seeing Endeavor’s doppelgänger in the flesh: brash and prideful, harming others to get to the top, and never giving a thought about anyone else but themselves. God, it’s even worse with Endeavor’s mortality rate steadily climbing and collateral damage even more so. His employees clearly didn’t get paid enough to maintain his public image.

 

If Izumi were to become a hero, she’d make sure to put the civilians above all else. Being a hero meant saving lives, not having a free ticket to abuse and beat up other people. If you looked even closer, some heroes even used heroism as an excuse for criminal acts, waving around their license to avoid questioning. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was what Endeavor did. Poor family. Well, pipe dreams and all.

 

Don’t get her wrong, she’d love to be a hero, it had long been her dream since she was about yea big (cue the hand gesture the size of a small log), but with her current _afterschool activities_ , she probably wouldn’t be able to find enough time. Being a hero would get in the way of witch hunting and there were already enough government funded heroes in existence. If Izumi were to not become a hero, there would be another candidate to replace her, but replacing a magical girl was never as simple as that. Experience was vital since a city would usually only have one magical girl to protect it, and the more experienced a magical girl was, the less likely they would be to die.

 

“Today you’ll be filling out your high school applications- oh what am I talking about, of course you all want to be heroes!” Everyone cheered, displaying their various quirks. Izumi still couldn’t understand why being quirkless was so bad. For gods sake what use is a quirk that lets you pull out your eyeballs but not even detach them fully? If they remained connected to your eye socket, then what good does it do except creep out little kids?

 

Honestly speaking, it was going to be difficult to even find a school that would possibly even think twice about accepting Izumi. Having a quirk was a requirement for most schools and higher education, not to mention jobs. That was why quirkless suicide and unemployment rates had skyrocketed. Even the most menial of tasks usually needed quirks, and quirk users always had priority for everything else, even health care. Again, what difference did it make in the office to have a quirk? It wasn’t as if they were going to use them anytime soon anyways, unless you completely ignored the public quirk usage laws, practically begging to get fined or arrested.

 

What utter plain discrimination. There had been effectively zero change in society since quirkless times; prejudice had existed since the very beginning. Sometimes the thought of humanity self destructing itself so hard, despite the efforts of some people who actively fought to save the population, was disgusting. People died to ensure comfort and the survival of others, and yet all everyone else can do is hate and hurt. God, how revolting.

 

“Don’t lump me in with these extras!” A cacophony of outrage protested against Bakugou’s arrogant remark.

 

“Ah, Bakugou, you want to go to U.A. don’t you?” The teacher asked innocently. Izumi’s classmates exclaimed, gasping in surprise. It was expected though, and no one could disagree with the claim given Bakugou’s _amazing_ quirk. He’d practically been served his entire life on a silver platter, all laid out for him since the day he was born and the man in the clouds decided this impertinent child deserved the best in life.

 

“Of course I am! I’ll definitely surpass All Might and become the number one hero! My name’ll be inscribed on the list of top earners!” Honestly, how egotistical could he get? He just admitted in front of everyone that his only reason for being a hero was to get paid and yet he was still most admired. At least he would never have any real friends.

 

Still, having avid fans and ass kissers was still better than not having anyone at all. That wasn’t necessarily true though. Izumi had Inko and Kyuubey and the magical girls- oh god that was actually such a depressing realisation. Inko was her mother, Kyuubey’s sole purpose was to murder her for sustainable energy, and the magical girls were all independently working in different cities. The only ones she was on somewhat friendly terms with were long gone. _Oh cruel world, what the hell is this clear bias you have against me?_

 

“Actually, Midoriya, you also wanted to go to U. A. right?” Damn it all. _I loathe even the mere concept of your existence, please leave me alone._

 

“Seriously? Never mind having a weak quirk, you don’t have one at all!” Everyone else chimed in with their own comments and laughter, Bakugou’s previous jeers completely forgotten. Izumi abhorred the lot of them.

 

“Chill out, I don’t even want to be a hero anymore. I’m aiming for the Gen Ed department. U.A.’s a good school to have on your CV, regardless of which department. I thought you’d already know that, obviously, seeing as you pride yourself to be the smartest. Momentary lapse of judgement maybe?” He always jumped to conclusions concerning everything. Perhaps that was why he hated Izumi so much: a misunderstanding. No, of course not, in the end it was still quirklessness.

 

“Hey Deku, I don’t believe you at all. There’s no way a hero obsessed shit like you suddenly stopped dreaming big. Let me get this clear, I’ll be the only one getting into U.A., you understand? If you really wanna be worth something so bad, maybe you should take a swan dive off the roof and pray you get a quirk in your next life!” Ouch, rude. As if that one sentence would convince him though, stubborn idiot.

 

Good thing Izumi decided not to bring her notebooks to school. She had the sudden suspicion that Bakugou would’ve blown it up had he seen it. After the whole ‘incident’, her hero notes for the future had turned into witch hunting notes. She’d write down about her powers and information about all the witches and familiars she’d come across, including names, abilities, fighting style, folklore and the such. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to just leave something like that lying around where anybody could find it.

 

There was a quiet slithering sound from behind Izumi, and then the thunderous clanging and clatter of metal as the manhole cover sprang up, propelled by a gloopy, green liquid. The concoction gelled together, shaping into a small pile with a vaguely human face: two eyes and a mouth being the only similarities.

 

“A medium-sized invisibility cloak.” The slime enveloped Izumi, congealing around her and suffocating her with tendrils of sludge. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to take over your body.” That was an impossible outcome. The villain had been truly misfortunate by choosing to attack someone who didn’t have any necessity to breathe.

 

It hadn’t been necessary since her soul gem could use magic to maintain her body. It supplied her body with power; it reinforced it when fighting; it moved it using magic; it prevented decay. Her body was practically a corpse at that point. Therefore, as long as the soul gem didn’t break or corrupt, Izumi couldn’t die.

 

Weighing the benefits and consequences of transforming, Izumi ceased to struggle. On one hand, she could free herself pretty easily, but on the other hand, no one was supposed to be aware of witches and magical girls except the small community comprised of themselves and themselves only. The sludge villain cackled malevolently, until the confusion kicked in. Really, how melodramatic, who even does the evil laugh anymore?

 

With the moment of slight hesitation from the villain, Izumi took the chance to wind up an attack. However, she felt the unmistakable onslaught of wind pressure, and opted out of transforming. Catching a glimpse of the iconic tuft of blond hair, she was hurled backwards by the force of the blow. Moderately disorientated, she looked up and- oh my god that’s All Might.

 

“It’s all right now, young lady.” He looked completely different in person. The whole scene was surreal, as if all of Izumi’s fangirl dreams came true. If her old self had been in a different situation back then, she probably would’ve been stupid enough to waste her wish on something like this. Who knows what kind of dumb ability she’d get out of it too.

 

“Thank you very much!” She bowed to her childhood hero, reaching into her backpack for a notebook of any kind. Drawing back her hand, she pulled out her reading book on heroism and the effect of commercialism. All Might took the book, scrawling his blocky signature onto the blank page under the cover. “Thank you!”

 

“No problem!” The hero waved, still smiling brightly. Crouching, he leapt up into the clouds with an abrupt blast of air. Then he was out of sight. Izumi sighed, wondering what sort of question she would’ve asked if nothing had changed.

 

* * *

 

Kyuubey arrived with an announcement late in the evening whilst Izumi was out on patrol. “The magical girl in charge of Mitakihara City was killed by a witch.” Mami? It’s unfortunate but something like that was bound to happen eventually. She’d become far too desperate and arrogant after Sakura left. A magical girl wouldn’t survive long on her own after having a partner to depend on- and trusting Kyuubey blindly was never a good idea.

 

Anyways, she still believed the purpose of hunting witches was solely to be virtuous. Sometimes you had to be a little selfish to survive. Such an optimistic magical girl being hypercritical of non-altruistic actions and utterly blind to the way the world worked had no place amongst the living.

 

Mami got a bit too comfortable and haughty after finding a few students to teach her selfless, valiant ways, as if she needed to impress them constantly in order for them not to leave, and to always remind them to not grow up like Sakura. She always did struggle to work alone. Her paradisial ideals had always been unfathomable to Sakura; that was why she left in the first place.

 

Kyuubey stared at her emotionlessly with apathetic, obsidian eyes. “The magical girl from Kazamino went to take over her turf.” That was a reasonable statement. Mitakihara did have an abnormally high witch population after all. It increased the maximum magical girl count since there were enough grief seeds to sustain multiple magical girls. For Sakura, that meant an abundance up for grabs with no competitors left in Mitakihara after the death of Mami.

 

“Well who is there to oppose her?” Mami was a strong magical girl: almost completely unrivalled. Kyouko Sakura was her partner. Naturally, she was also strong.

 

“Mami mentored some students. They might make a contract.” There was no way a newbie could ever best a veteran like Sakura: even if there were two of them.

 

“I see. What about the anomaly?” Izumi inquired.

 

Kyuubey responded cheerfully. “Homura Akemi. Appeared at the start of the month. Mami didn’t like her.” Even though she was pathetically amicable, there were still magical girls she despised. Akemi must’ve been somewhat like Sakura then: abrasive and selfish, yet sometimes with an empathetic outlook. However, Mami was too oblivious to even try and see reason with her former partner.

 

“How come you don’t remember making a contract with her? Isn’t that how a magical girl is created?” As far as Izumi was aware, Kyuubey was supposedly the sole contractor in Japan. There was no need for any more with an average of only one magical girl in each city.

 

He was thoughtful for a second. “It is odd.” Something an incubator didn’t understand was hard to come across. _Never contracted with Kyuubey, apparent teleportation, infinite storage, no not teleportation something else, fights like a veteran, knows something about the incubators despite being new, knows about Walpurgisnacht which hasn’t even occurred yet-_

 

* * *

 

Shouta Aizawa did not get paid nearly enough to deal with a whole day of whiny teenagers and then a night of patrol. His one reprieve from this hellhole was precious sleep, but since he couldn’t get any, he had to depend on some strange concoction of coffee, energy drink and vodka he’d whipped up and discovered actually worked for some inexplicable reason. Bless the gods for coffee. Curse them for edgy brats and their demonic shenanigans.

 

Furthermore, Tsukauchi had recently brought in a case about a collective hallucination where an entire crowd had attempted mass suicide involving gasoline and various cleaning products. Witnesses had described them as being in a haze but capable of conscious thought, since when inquired, they responded that they were going to a better place and encouraged them to join. There were also reports of a butterfly marking on their necks, causing police to begin looking into a quirk investigation by introducing the possibility of it being a quirk induced trance. So far there were no suspects with quirks corresponding with the given information. It was a complete and utter dead end.

 

* * *

 

_-Homura Akemi came from an alternate timeline._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew Izumi’s concept art on top of a copy and pasted Nightingale OC I got off the internet. I lack skill and effort.

 

 

 

Izumi walked serenely under the glow of amber street lamps. They lit up the pavement, illuminating her path. Checking her peridot soul gem, she noticed the intermittent flashing had shone increasingly brilliantly during her outing. She continued heading towards the shadier part of town, where fighting and crime were more likely to occur; chances were a witch had spawned there.

 

The areas Izumi tended to frequent whilst witch tracking were busy roads, suicide spots, hospitals and places with high crime rates. Since she’d already visited the high buildings and major roads earlier, she’d managed to edge her way towards the shady alleys, where underground heroes patrolled, by early morning. Moving briskly, her soul gem detected the lingering traces of a witch, guiding her to a dead end.

 

She looked around, trying to spot possible bystanders who might witness her transforming. Confirming there was no one else in the decrepit street, she lifted off the ground surrounded in a rose pink glow. Ribbons enveloped her torso, forming a pink and white nurse’s uniform, and her skirt fluttered, appearing in a cloud of sparkles. Then, they wound around her knees and feet, materialising into knee pads and boots. Viridian locks flowed, hair wrapping itself into a bun. A nurse’s hat poofed into existence and sat on her head. Her soul gem became an ornamental pin under her collar.

 

Holding her hand in the air, a cross shaped spear manifested from green ribbons. The top of the blade reached just above her head, made out of sharp, white metal and joining to form a cross. The middle of the blades were a jade green, the same colour as her soul gem. She gripped it loosely, taking a step forward.

 

Psychedelic shapes and swirls clouded her vision, revealing a vividly coloured labyrinth. It had the same gaudy surrealism as all the previous ones she’d seen before. Peering around, she saw vibrant flowers and fruit trees constantly changing and sprouting from the unnaturally coloured ground. Sprinting across the uneven ground, she arrived at a pair of colossal double doors. She slammed it open, entering an endlessly large room. Artistic, curved symbols streamed by, labelling the witch as “Augusta”.

 

The walls were comprised of illusory foods, spiralling and dripping down temptingly. Floating in the air was the distorted figure of a woman with a chalky complexion whose eyes and mouth were scribbled out in black ink. She wore a regal blue dress, sitting alone at an obscenely large table. Substantial plates of food cluttered and filled the table like a feast for one. In front of the witch were what Izumi assumed were her familiars: a line of small, abstract people holding dishes piled high. As with most other things in the labyrinth they looked like unrealistic, cardboard cut-outs.

 

Suddenly, the witch screamed, bending over to swipe the familiar at the front of the line with keen claws, clutching it and depositing it above her gaping jaws. She clamped her mouth shut, crunching on it and savouring the taste. The rest of the queue froze still, afraid of their master. Augusta urged them to continue, and they did so in fear of their demise. She was utterly insatiable.

 

The witch’s head swerved around to look at Izumi with her hollow eye sockets. When she spotted the lack of offerings in her arms, she stood to consume her soul instead. Augusta’s teeth chattered, and her whispering familiars retreated and fled using the distraction. Bellowing in anger, Augusta smashed misfortunate stragglers into the ground.

 

Twirling her spear, Izumi summoned a whirlwind of daggers and shot them in arcs around the witch. The blades converged at the witch’s chest, impacting with it. They scratched and sliced at the witch, who smacked them uselessly with her arms. The knives surrounded Augusta, forming a sharp hurricane. Whenever the witch struggled, her skin would tear as they dragged crimson lines through her flesh. She shrieked a piercing cry, soundwaves dislodging some of the blades.

 

When the witch reached to grab her through the opening, Izumi stabbed the ground, vaulting upwards and running along the witch’s pallid arm. Blocking an attack from her other arm with a circle of interlocked daggers, she cut through the limb which burst into dust. The witch cried in despair as she was carved like the turkey sitting on the table. Aiming her spear at the witch’s sternum, Izumi’s weapon promptly expanded, impaling her. She released an anguished screech before cackling as she disintegrated.

 

The constantly shifting scenery instantaneously stilled, fizzing out. It contorted and warped back into reality, leaving Izumi back in the alley she entered from. She heard a quiet clink from behind her. Turning around, she picked up the grief seed. Satisfied with her patrol for the night, Izumi willed herself to detransform, appearing normal again in a wash of pink light.

 

She didn’t use the witch’s egg to clear the slight mist in her soul gem. Instead, she decided it wasn’t that dull, being a quick fight, and tucked it into the side pocket of her small yellow backpack. She stood there in her green hoodie and jeans- she’d brought the hoodie to cover her “shirt” shirt because someone had called it lame the other day- and checked the time on her phone.

 

The glaring numbers read that it was already two. Content that it was late enough and she had already accomplished her task by slaying Augusta the feast witch, she turned the corner, trudging aimlessly back home. She wouldn’t risk being spotted in her magical girl costume close to her home, especially by the underground heroes who stalked the shady streets in town. If she hurried now, she might be able to squeeze in a couple hours of sleep before school the next day, but rest was only a luxury, not a necessity- not anymore.

 

She failed to notice the pair of dark beady eyes trailing after her from the roof.

 

* * *

 

Shouta Aizawa thought he was severely underpaid for the sheer amount of time and effort he invested into his career. He was an underground hero so the government paid him a far lower salary than most of the more popular heroes, despite the fact that the serious crimes often happened in the run-down areas of the city which people like him were in charge of, not the well-off areas for the financially stable. However, because he was an underground hero, he also had longer working hours since he regularly patrolled at night unlike other heroes who patrolled during the day.

 

Therefore, after a weary day at school teaching miserable brats with the hellspawn constantly wailing their satanic nonsense non-stop, he was cursed to then spend his night chasing criminals instead of resting like he deserved. Sometimes he hated life. All of that trouble and he was still mostly living off of a teacher’s wage. This was the cause of depression. Why didn’t people pay teachers more? They had to deal with an incomprehensible amount of stress on a daily basis molding the nation’s future, and yet they were paid less than mere entertainers. Count on society to fuck up some more.

 

After the whole instigated mass suicide attempt, Tsukauchi who was lead detective on the case had sent an alert to every hero in the district to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity which may be associated with it. All they knew so far was that someone had a powerful suggestion quirk that could be used on a large number of people simultaneously but left the targets with small, temporary butterfly markings. Apart from that, they had nothing. The case was still just as cold as Shouta’s freezer was.

 

Shaken out of his brief respite, he glanced down from the roof he was on, noticing a petite figure wearing a hoodie and bright yellow backpack. What were they doing at this ungodly hour? A runaway maybe? Shouta would never have gone out willingly in the cold, dark hours of night. Well, morning now actually, but point made.

 

Spotting their twitchy head movements, he followed with caution. It seemed as if they were either being followed or actively searching for trouble. Either way, it was kind of in his job description to make sure they were safe. If they turned out to be a villain, then Shouta was just a very bad judge of character. If so, he’d have to leave it to his cat instead.

 

Shouta jolted as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Reaching in, he fished out the evil device which irritated his eyes like a blinding floodlight. Turning down the brightness, he saw “Hizashi Yamada” displayed on the screen. Deciding all resistance would prove ultimately futile, he tapped once on the green accept button, holding it next to his ear to answer the call. He bounded across a couple roofs discreetly just in case, as to not blow his cover.

 

“What is it Hizashi?” Shouta grumbled threateningly. He swore to all that was holy that if the stupid cockatoo called for something idiotic then he would castrate him in the morning. Or maybe not yet actually, he’d prefer the blond dumbass fully intact, despite how annoying he could be at times.

 

“Shouutaaa,” the stupid bird whined noisily, though thankfully he wasn’t dumb enough to activate his quirk. “Nemuri’s trying to suffocate Tensei with her boobs again!” _Oh dear god, what the actual_ \- “She even tried to spike his drink but then Sekijiro drank it and he’s such a lightweight so of course he’s dead now,” _excuse me what_ \- “Then Emi walked in, and I don’t even know why she’s here ‘cause she works at Ketsubutsu, but then she started making everyone laugh because she’s a sadistic ass when she’s drunk and now Tensei’s dead too! When you’re done with patrol please save-” His speech was cut off abruptly with a scream as Hizashi also fell prey to the two drunk teachers. Their body count was steadily increasing as they cornered their next victim of asphyxiation.

 

With a straight face, Shouta replied indifferently. “No thank you. Emi terrifies me; she keeps on trying to make me smile. Good luck on your own.” With that response, he hung up the phone, unwilling to listen to his husband’s protests of “Traitor!” without chugging another cup of coffee-energy-vodka-thing.

 

That was an utter waste of time. Regardless of how much he enjoyed listening to Hizashi suffer, he was also suffering and listening to the teachers being a bunch of little shits when they were supposed to be responsible role models wasn’t his ideal patrol pastime. Of course, he couldn’t claim that his hobo in a sleeping bag appearance was the look of a good role model either, but at least he behaved.

 

Leaping his way back towards the anxious midget he’d left back in the alley, Shouta kept his eyes out for the familiar bag. When he arrived, they were already gone. Dammit he lost the kid. It was probably a good thing Shouta was not a father. That would have been a horrendous situation, likely ending in death, fire or serious property damage.

 

Deciding he’d lost them, Shouta scoured the area from the rooftop, in case they were in any danger. Sudden disappearances were never a good sign in his experience.

 

He’d searched high and low and- mostly low actually, they weren’t going to be perched on a roof. He didn’t manage to locate them but when he returned to that same dead end, they had reappeared. They seemed to be checking the time on their phone, getting ready to go.

 

This time, he’d make sure to follow properly.

 

* * *

 

Call her paranoid but Izumi had gotten the feeling she was being followed since she’d detsransformed. If that was so, then did they see it? She hoped not because that would be troublesome. No one was supposed to know about magic except the magical community anyways.

 

She’d walked a couple more metres before she stopped to look around. She just couldn’t shrug off her suspicions until she’d confirmed it for herself. Abruptly, a disheveled man with unkempt black hair dropped onto the street in front of her. She would’ve thought he was a shaggy hobo man apart from the fact that those distinct yellow goggles and capture weapon belonged to a certain underground hero. Now she really hoped he didn’t see anything.

 

“Uh hi. Nice scarf.” She complimented him, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he was a hero. “Who are you?” she asked him quietly.

 

The scruffy man replied absentmindedly. “Pro hero Eraserhead. Did you get lost?” Oh thank god that was all.

 

“Uhh yes, actually, but I think I’m fine now.” Izumi excused herself, scuttling away. She still felt somewhat anxious under the scrutinising stare of the hero. Now she wasn’t quite so sure he hadn’t seen.

 

She shuffled back home swiftly. Silently, she pried open the bedroom window she’d purposely left unlatched for late night outings such as these, and slid under the covers.

 

* * *

 

Bakugou sneered. None of these extras could ever even hope to be heroes, unlike him of course. He was sure to be the best at everything, and he’d live a comfortable life. If he tried, he could even beat All Might.

 

Despite this, that stupid Deku still stood in his way. She couldn’t become a hero; she was quirkless. Just how many times would it have to take in order to drill that into her thick skull. She’d seriously get herself killed one day.

 

“Actually, Midoriya, you also wanted to go to U. A. right?” He ground his teeth together in ire. Of course she couldn’t just give up. He saw her cower in her seat, trying to become invisible. Clearly she was still wanting to be a hero since she tried so hard not to be noticed.

 

“Seriously? Never mind having a weak quirk, you don’t have one at all!” Everyone else joined in to support his opinion. He didn’t give a damn about what any of them thought.

 

“Chill out, I don’t even want to be a hero anymore. I’m aiming for the Gen Ed department. U.A.’s a good school to have on your CV, regardless of which department. I thought you’d already know that, obviously, seeing as you pride yourself to be the smartest. Momentary lapse of judgement maybe?” He saw red. She was just trying to get on his nerves wasn’t she? Just begging to get herself killed.

 

She was lying. She’d been practically worshipping heroes since they were toddlers.“Hey Deku, I don’t believe you at all. There’s no way a hero obsessed shit like you suddenly stopped dreaming big. Let me get this clear, I’ll be the only one getting into U.A., you understand? If you really wanna be worth something so bad, maybe you should take a swan dive off the roof and pray you get a quirk in your next life!” He suppressed a wince as he said it. He didn’t mean it to be quite so harsh, but maybe now she’d finally just give up her stupid dreams. It was impossible anyways and better for everyone if she didn’t try at all.

 

_“Are you okay?” Izumi reached out her hand as he sat in the shallow river._

 

The mere thought of her pissed him off.

 

* * *

 

Tsukauchi _did_  tell him to keep his eye out, but did a middle schooler getting lost in an alley at 2am in the morning _really_ count as suspicious behaviour? He’d have to double check.

 

* * *

 

_Augusta_

_The feast witch with a gluttonous nature. Augusta is always searching for more delicacies to eat. Her familiars serve her food but if their offering is insufficient, they are consumed instead. If the humans who enter the labyrinth do not present a sufficient offering, she will eat them too._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oops forgot about the madoka timeline and the fact that all witches would’ve been deleted and the girls would’ve died before the start of U.A. since Mami dies 10 months before school begins in the fic, but I’m too lazy to change anything from the previous chapter. So.
> 
> Remember that timeline where they defeated Walpurgisnacht but then they used up too much magic and only had one grief seed? Time to alter the Homuverse timeline. I disliked everyone but Homura and Kyouko in canon so everything after Sayaka didn’t happen. God I messed up canon events for self-indulgence so much in this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry.

 

“Greetings, Izumi.” The pale ball of fluff which appeared to be the amalgamation of some magical cat or fox landed on the edge of the roof. He approached her slowly, perching himself beside her. Izumi wished he would’ve fallen of the side, but that would be wishful thinking since he would just have another copy of himself prepared. His self-cannibalism was utterly disgusting.

 

“Incubator,” she replied, reluctantly acknowledging his existence. On one hand, he’d readily sold off her soul, but on the other hand, it was to ensure the survival of the universe. Could she really blame him? She would’ve done the same. Izumi had the feeling she’d changed a bit in the past year.

 

Kyuubey looked at her with his soulless, black eyes. “The magical girl in charge of Mitakihara City was recently killed by a witch. I just thought you’d like to know.” Izumi knew it had to happen eventually. All magical girls died, and very few ever lived to adulthood. She knew it was certain from the moment they signed the contract, written into their own soul. She knew it was supposed to be this way, to collect the most energy. But it still hurt. Perhaps not as much as it would’ve if they’d all remained friends, but they were familiar enough for the revelation to sting. Mami was someone she’d fought alongside since almost the very beginning. She’d been one of her only friends, and now Izumi had no one. No Incubator didn’t count as a friend, and neither did Bakugou, because she was pretty sure they both wanted her dead.

 

It must’ve been a strong witch to kill a veteran like Mami. “Was it powerful?” She asked.

 

“No, it wasn’t.” Incubator stared at her. “It was a weak witch, but she was caught off guard. She had some apprentices she wanted to teach, so she acted gaudy and arrogant. It seems she paid the price with her life.”

 

Izumi kicked out her legs, swinging them over the side of the building, like a pendulum. “Who, magical girls?” She enquired. It was surprisingly easy to get information out of Kyuubey, just difficult to know what to ask. He’d always omit everything else. Maybe she should’ve acted more logically when she made her wish, but she was a bit desperate, she’d admit.

 

“No, civilians.” Izumi stiffened. Ah, that was right. She’d never told them about the magical girl cycle before, had she? She’d found out after they’d disbanded, and it didn’t seem likely that either would ever be willing to talk without bloodshed. She should’ve warned Mami not to drag other people into their mess- especially after the Pleiades Saints. A leader inspired by Mami’s words and actions, also encouraging her group to become magical girls. All of which ended in death.

 

In all honesty though, so many novices being so dependent on one veteran, in a city with an average witch population, was bound to end in tragedy. Even in Mitakihara City, where the number of witches was abnormally high, it would still be difficult to maintain seven girls. Especially when only the leader had experience and was doing the most fighting, since magic-use darkened the soul gem. They’d all started dying off after a while. It was only natural, but tragic none the less.

 

“What’s wrong?” Kyuubey didn’t seem concerned in the slightest- that unempathetic, annoying- and it irritated her. He was supposed to at least care about the children he was sending off to war with a mortality rate of one hundred percent. He owed them that much at least.

 

Izumi had to stop them before they signed away their life. If it was already too late to save her own, she’d have to settle with saving other people’s. Though saving was what she’d planned to do in the first place. This was definitely not what she had in mind. She’d never stop the production of heroes, but it seemed magical girls were a different case. “Nothing, just thinking. Can you give me the names of these ‘apprentices’?”

 

Actually considering the whole situation, heroes and magical girls weren’t much different. They both get tricked with the idea of valiance and prestige, and saving others, without realising they could die with every battle. Ah, propaganda these days. The only difference? Magical girls received nothing in return, except a wish that almost always ended in misfortune. Their deaths were also certain, early, unnoticed, and forgotten.

 

“Kaname Madoka and Miki Sayaka.” Izumi nodded quietly. She’d have to look up those names soon.

 

She’d gotten her information, and didn’t feel like talking with the emotionless rat any longer. “Is that all, Incubator?”

 

He paused for a second, hesitant. “Actually, a magical girl in a neighbouring city has a cloudy soul gem. If she doesn’t use any grief seeds soon...”

 

“Thank you, Incubator. Good night,” she said, content. He nodded, and stood, leaping across the rooftops until he was nothing but a mere speck of dust in the distance.

 

Being familiar with Kyuubey’s manipulation first-hand, Izumi knew it wouldn’t quite make sense for him to give away such information without a purpose. She hadn’t specifically requested it after all. Her current speculation was that the soul gem corruption was too far along to stop, and Kyuubey had only called her over to subjugate the witch and use up her magic. Or maybe he still somewhat believed he could drive her into despair. How cruel.

 

Seeing there was no time to be wasted, Izumi sprang off the ledge, bounding towards Asunaro City. Izumi had resolved herself to finding a witch, not a magical girl, because Kyuubey’s methods left no room for mercy.

 

She was grateful that she could actually just run across to another city so easily without needing to wait for a train. Physical enhancement was one of the benefits of being a magical girl, along with their desensitisation to pain. Sure, it was kind of surprising, but having a soul gem wasn’t all that bad- except for the fact that their soul was so out in the open and fragile. It made her feel vulnerable.

 

Of course, being shattered into oblivion also sounded a lot worse than hell, so there was that too.

 

She passed by a few recognisable shops and restaurants, landing on top of the tallest skyscraper in her field of vision. It towered over the illuminated city, dotted in the glow of street lamps and house lights. Peering over the edge, she spotted Asunaro Dome, and then just beyond it, Lavieland Amusement Park.

 

For a supposedly decrepit, abandoned theme park, it appeared to be in rather good condition. What really disturbed her though was the eerie music, intermittent giggles, and flashing lights which a long since closed down park should definitely not have. Decidedly, that was where she had to go.

 

Hopping down, she caught the Ferris wheel overlooking the entire park. It was empty since the metal gates were still closed and barred up, but she could just about glimpse the expressions of confusion and shock marring the faces of pedestrians. Izumi would bet they also didn’t expect the sudden repair of a derelict amusement park. She thanked the stars for the witch’s disinterest in human visitors.

 

Wandering through the park, she ducked her head into various stalls, looking around for suspicious activity, though she didn’t know what counted because there was steaming food and moving carts everywhere she checked. Normally witches tended to stay hidden in labyrinths _inconspicuously_. This was an odd anomaly and Izumi couldn’t tell just what was wrong with it.

 

She looked up, a giant clown face grinning down at her sinisterly, and for a second she could’ve sworn she’d saw its eyes following her. Who knows? Pretty much anything was possible for a witch.

 

She swatted away the cloth door, stepping into what seemed to be a room of mirrors. She almost thought she was intoxicated when her reflection moved independently of her. It waved, mouthing words. “Welcome to the house of mirrors,” it said silently.

 

An abrupt wave of dizziness hit Izumi like a truck. A very heavy truck. Her reflection smiled as her vision swam. It bent and curved until psychedelic spirals and swirls began to replace the normalcy. And there was the labyrinth, she guessed.

 

Green shrubbery and wavy plants sprang up from the floor, twisting and dancing in colourful paints. All the details appeared surreal as always, like chunks of coloured paper had been glued onto the fabric of reality. The large swirling lollipops from the stalls formed the head of flowers, cascading into liquorice stems and gummy leaves.

 

The witch alphabet hovered mockingly, announcing the witch as Kagami: Kagami who was apparently missing. Izumi swivelled her head around, still not seeing anything other than walls of mirrors. Paranoid- albeit for a good reason- she summoned a few daggers and her staff, clutching it tightly with both hands in anticipation of a surprise attack.

 

One of the Izumis in the mirror darted forward swiftly, the same spear in hand. Forcefully, she jabbed at Izumi’s torso, who blocked it with her own. Kagami snatched her’s back, arcing it down repeatedly. Izumi matched her blows with her Jumonji Yari.

 

Izumi swung out her legs, kicking out Kagami’s feet from under her. She winced, watching a mirror image of herself fall in a messy heap of limbs. She grabbed her spear, aiming downwards, before Kagami grabbed her weapon to parry the blow, stray knives flinging themselves randomly in Izumi’s direction.

 

It was like fighting herself, with the same looks and the same powers. However strong being a witch made her though, she wasn’t as experienced as Izumi was with her powers, despite whatever bits of information she got from copying it, or the apparent fighting prowess and strength you got from being a witch. From Izumi’s point of view, Kagami’s magic was limitless in comparison to Izumi’s reserves which were slowly dwindling with use. She couldn’t drag it out if she wanted to win.

 

The room of mirrors only jarred her focus further: many carbon copies of herself moving and swinging their spears. Her concentration remained but her confidence waned, confused and cautious around the possibility of losing sight of Kagami.

 

Izumi bolted to the left, narrowly avoiding the projectiles as they whizzed past her. Turning, they flew back in her direction. She dived down, silently commanding her own to knock them out of the way.

 

The mirror Izumi sprinted forward. Izumi took a stance, expanding the spear to impale her, but she dodged, moving to the side. Izumi swiped, swatting the copy like a fly with newspaper. Her body slammed into the wall, shattering it in a spiderweb of cracks. Eventually it fell down with a couple shards of glass still embedded in her skin.

 

The entire wall crumbled downwards in a flurry of glass and crystalline dust, burying Kagami’s limp body beneath it. Izumi approached warily, treading slowly on the debris. She heard a soft crunch behind her, twisting around to stab whatever familiar or ability Kagami had summoned. She turned around only to spot the other mirror walls with her reflections looking the exact same.

 

Her only warning was a brief smile before another reflection leaped out of the mirror. Izumi swung out her spear to slice across Kagami’s mid section. Kagami jumped on top of it, propelling backwards and flipping through the air.

 

From what Izumi could tell, Kagami could make a copy out of any mirror image in the room. As long as there was still a full reflection, she could just bring herself back repeatedly, no matter the damage to the body itself. Then in that case, it would only make sense to destroy the entire room.

 

Izumi hauled her enlarged spear through the air, curving it to smash through all of the walls. The grating screech of metal scratching glass was drowned out by the shrill splash of glass as it impacted the floor. The walls rained down multitudes of glass shards like a rainstorm.

 

Kagami rushed towards Izumi, crashing into her. Both of them hurtled to the ground in a tangle of limbs atop a heap of sharp glass. Kagami screamed, grabbing a blade out of the air. Izumi gripped Kagami’s arm unforgivingly, kicking her off. She scrambled up, driving her legs into Kagami’s side who crumpled like paper.

 

Lastly, she jabbed upwards, stabbing through the ceiling with the elongated Jumonji Yari. It split and caved in, pouring shards of glass down on the both of them. Izumi ducked, calling her small daggers to cover her body like a shield.

 

Unfurling, she looked up at Kagami who’s face was twisted into a snarl. Her angry lips peeled away, followed by her chipped skin which melted and flowed off her body. Standing in a puddle of a liquidised carcass stood a small child who seemed only six or seven, bits and pieces still dangling off her frame.

 

She wore a decorative gown, patterns crawling across it, still moving sluggishly. The mottled pink bled into the red of blood, droplets still dripping from open wounds.

 

Izumi swayed, suddenly nauseous as she flicked her hand. Her blade followed, decapitating the witch as she fell down into the dirt and disintegrated in a cloud of black mist. She turned into a grief seed and the labyrinth swirled back into the amusement park, though noticeably less alive than before.

 

Izumi clutched at her face, revolted at watching herself turn to mush, and having to kill a small girl. She’d stab Kyuubey a thousand times to avenge the young life he’d taken. She’d douse him in gasoline and flames, and laugh as he burned, even if it just meant he’d come back later. Laughing humourlessly, she sobbed into her dirt-stained hands.

 

* * *

 

 _Kagami_  

_The witch of reflection with an envious nature. She is the remnant of a young, novice magical girl who had wished to become someone else. Her regret transformed her into a witch. She has the ability to copy the appearances and abilities of others._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay? I kind of went on hiatus to start another fic, and then my iPad got stolen with the chapters for this fic, and then I had textiles coursework, and then GCSE mocks, and then I got a fever. On the plus side though, I finally rewrote this chap and hung out with friends (it’s shocking I have any). I changed the plot a lot from what it was before and it’s probably for the better that the original was lost. This fic is so self indulgent and terribly written. Thanks for staying and w h y?? I love ur support guys even though idek why ur still here \ToT/


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